MAX KEENLYSIDE

PIANISTand COMPOSER

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ANTH 2991 Visual Anthropology"Photo Essay" Assignment

ANTH 2991, Dr. Kelly
Baker

Max Keenlyside

“Y SANTIAGO?” – PHOTO ESSAY

The
sociopolitical climate of Buenos Aires past and present can be well-observed in
the relics of the cityscape. In contrast
to the relative social and political stability known in Canada, Argentina has a
history of constant change; since attaining independence from the British in
1825, Argentina has endured several civil wars, and numerous regimes of
different varieties of government. Much
of the architecture in the Argentine capital, Buenos Aires, is historic. The modern cityscape comprises a conglomerate
of private and governmental building spanning the mid-19th and late
20th centuries. This Fall, I had the opportunity not only to visit
the city, but also to get shown around by new friends who were eager to share
their love for their city, country, and the history hidden in every street and
structure. In this writing, I will
reflect on some of the sights that were of political, historical, and social
significance, and explore how they may be viewed through an anthropological
lens.

My
primary purpose in visiting Argentina was to perform as part of the Buenos
Aires Ragtime and Early Jazz festival, held at the Centro Cultural Kirchner. However, with a week in Buenos Aires, and
only one evening performance each day, me and my pianistic cohorts were free to
explore and learn about the city. Ragtime
music, though a North American idiom, is far from insular, and through
globalization, it found its way to South America in the mid-20th
century. We were welcomed by many
Argentine ragtime musicians who, fortunately for me and three other pianists,
were so generous as to share their time and knowledge. Chief among these was Nahuel Zacharias, a 27-year-old
multi-instrumentalist street musician (Photo
1). Through conversations with both
Nahuel and another street musician named Lucas Ferrari, I learned that in
Argentina, their line of work does not carry the same social stigma that may be
associated with it in North America. In
most first world countries, such as Canada and the United States, street
performers of any kind are closely tied with presumptions of poverty, lower
class, and sometimes even homelessness. In Buenos Aires, Nahuel told me, a
musician is expected to supplement their income with performances in a variety
of venues, both formal and informal, ranging from concert halls, to outdoor
markets, and even to city busses. Indeed,
Nahuel was generous to take time out of his bus performance schedule to tour us
about the city. Thinking in terms of
reflexivity, my assumptions about street musicians in Argentina represent an
ethnocentric interpretation of the Argentine culture.

Organized protest has long
been a part of the way Argentinians engage in their political process. During my stay in the city, I witnessed how
organized, controlled, and regular these displays were, and how their
occurrence had long since become normalized as part of Argentinian culture. Since the 1946 inauguration of president Juan
Domingo Perón, Argentinians mostly fall into two camps: Peronists and
Anti-Peronists. The original Peronist
government has since been argued to have been something closer to a fascist
regime, not unlike that of Benito Mussolini, but with a purely political and
non-racial slant. While the extremity of
these policies has waned over the decades, this divide still persists, not
unlike a counterpart to the Republican-Democrat duopoly in the United States. Peronist and anti-Peronist disputes are the
contentious primary subject of public protests. Our hosts explained how one’s
travels through the city should be carefully planned around these events; while
they are peaceful protests, they can occasionally descend into violence, both
from police intervention, organized militia, and within divided camps of
protesters.

Nahuel
took Will Perkins, Andrew Havens, John Reed-Torres, and myself on a bus tour
that focussed on La Boca, a waterfront historic neighborhood in Buenos Aires (Photo 2). Our wanderings were focused on the El Caminito
road area of the village. In addition to
being a fertile ground for tourist-oriented craft businesses, restaurants, and
cafes, the area is home to a wealth of cultural relics both old and new. Ubiquitous throughout Buenos Aires are
sculptures from the 18th to 19th centuries, usually
commemorating wartime events, celebrated figures of antiquity, or religious and
political figures. Peppered about the
city, alongside, and even on top of the sculptures, are the work of spray-paint
graffiti artists. Most graffiti art
found in Buenos Aires dates from the last three decades, and the styles generally
fall into two categories: eye-catching artwork that celebrates Argentine
culture (Photo 3), and politically-charged
text or iconography (Photo 4). Nahuel drew my attention to the “Y SANTIAGO”
graffiti, which could be seen replicated all about Buenos Aires (Photo 5). Unfortunately, there does not seem to be any
English-language documentation of the story behind the “Y SANTIAGO”
graffiti. Nahuel explained to me that,
several years ago, there was a Peronist and anti-Peronist protest conflict during
which a young boy named Santiago went missing. In short order, his remains were found, and it was clear that he had
been trampled to death during the incident. The anti-Peronists did their best to hold their adversaries accountable
by disseminating the rhetorical, damning question, “where is Santiago?” The phrase can be found on sidewalks, private
residences, government properties, businesses, and Peronist statues. (Photo 6 is one such statue, but regrettably
does not show the side containing the graffiti.) The example I have
included here is from a residential area near La Boca.

I found the
juxtaposition of the two art forms interesting: the “high-brow” expression of
the privileged elite depicted in the statues; and the sharply honest language
from the poorer demographics in the graffiti. It is notable that the disputes between the Peronists and anti-Peronists
are differently depicted by these two demographics: the statues of the
privileged celebrate the powerful figures and of both parties, and the opulence
they enjoyed; the subjects conveyed in graffiti often center around civilian
lives lost in the midst of Argentina’s political turmoil, their hardworking
lifestyle, and the impoverished conditions they endure (Photos 7 and 9). I couldn’t
help but speculate that the placement of graffiti on the statues was a direct
retaliation; a way for the less-privileged to directly respond to their more
powerful counterparts on the same platform.

As a resolution to
this fierce dichotomy, I was pleased to find one avenue of public art that
found some middle-ground. Among my
favourite sights in La Boca were side-by-side statues of Evita Peron and Che
Guevara (Pictures 8 and 10), presented
together alongside a celebrated football player whose name I unfortunately do
not recall.Evita Peron, while a member of the elite,
and wife of the political movement’s originator, was something of a quasi-spiritual
and moral icon to the underprivileged classes of Argentina; Guevara, an
Argentine expatriat, went on to become a famous Cuban revolutionary. Photos 8 and 10 include Nahuel, John
Reed-Torres, and myself standing with these illustrious figures. Nahuel explained to me that, while Peron and
Guevara apparently had no personal interaction, they are often depicted
together due to the shared ways in which they are celebrated, as ardent champions
of the lower class, amplifying the voices of those without the power to be
heard.